


the surrender of the star-dusted stubborn

by Bekka911



Series: purple syrup and stars that shine [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith is soft, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance has a mental break?, Lance is in pain, Mental Health Issues, Pidge is something else, Shiro is Tired, hunk is best bro, idk - Freeform, not set in any season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekka911/pseuds/Bekka911
Summary: Hunk stands by, and he watches.and Lance may not want him anymore, but Hunk will be there to hold him when the weight of the existence gets too heavy and Lance needs to leave again. Hunk will be there when Keith grabs Lance's very being and makes him stay.
Relationships: Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Series: purple syrup and stars that shine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573699
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	the surrender of the star-dusted stubborn

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what this is but it resonated with me when I war writing it so i'm hoping it's okay. i didn't mean to make pidge so ?????  
> i also hate the ending but eh
> 
> leave your thoughts in the comments!

Lance won’t let anyone touch him.

Pidge presses close to Hunk, her lips twisted into an unhappy smile. She’d worried, Hunk can see that, but so often her concern translates into anger and frustration and everything that’s short, sharp and hot. Hunk doesn’t know how to tell her that she needs to smooth those jagged edges or Lance will bleed and bleed and bleed.

“How long has it been?” Her voice is quiet, but not soft. Never soft. Pidge is steel - unforgiving and strong and harsh.

Hunk sighs, because his body is heavy and his mind is tired, but Lance has been sitting by the window for too many hours in a row and he can’t just _leave_ him. “He said Veronica’s name about an hour ago, but that’s it.”

Pidge shifts on her feet and adjusts her glasses. A nervous tick. Hunk lets her be about it. “He’s been sitting here for nearly 48 hours. Has he slept at all?”

Hunk shrugs, his eyes sad. “I don’t think he knows the difference between sleep, dreams, and reality.”

Pidge doesn’t say anything else, but her edges soften a little and Hunk is grateful.

.

Keith is next, once Pidge decides she can’t be there anymore. She lasts longer than Hunk had expected, but eventually her edges get sharper again and her voice edges on the wrong side of impatient and he tells her that she’s free to go, that Lance won’t mind if she disappears again.

“Hey,” Keith says very quietly, emerging from the shadows. Hunk doesn’t startle; he’s too in tune with his teammates to _not_ be aware of them, their proximity, their moods and thoughts and attitudes. Keith jams his hands in his pockets and nods at the silent Cuban boy. “How is he?”

Hunk has several different answers in his mouth, he just can’t decide which one to say. “He’s struggling,” he decides, and Keith hums. Hunk doesn’t know why, but he keeps going, keeps talking. The quiet is too oppressive and he’s been watching Lance for too long, and he’s fracturing too and he really just has to hold himself together until Lance turns away from the window. “He’s gone somewhere none of us can reach him. It used to happen in the Garrison. Nobody knows why, not even Lance, I think. He always calls it ‘going to the sky’.”

Keith stands silently for a moment and Hunk deflates, because his hopes are dashed, but then Keith asks, “There’s nothing we can do?”

And now, Hunk knows that, despite popular belief, Keith cares. Keith cares more than most people Hunk has ever met, and Hunk has met Lance’s mother. So while he’s surprised at Keith for asking, something in his chest settles at the concern twisting at Keith’s lips. 

“We have to let him burn through it,” Hunk explains, resigned. “He’ll crash soon, and then we just have to let him sleep it off. He’s usually alright in a week or so.”

Keith takes a moment to just watch Lance. Not that there’s much to look at. Lance is barely more than a statue, his skin ashen, his hair greasy. He sits still, knees pulled up to his chest and head twisted at an almost unntural angle to stare out the window at the stars they soar past. Hunk knows that Lance isn’t really _looking_ at them though. He’s just looking. 

Hunk has never been able to figure out what Lance looks for when he goes to the sky.

Keith just stands beside Hunk, hands in his pocket and shoulders relaxed and his voice soft as he asks questions and keeps the snarling, writhing silence away. Hunk is grateful for _this_ Keith, because _this_ Keith is the equivalent of hot chocolates on rainy days and ice cream for breakfast and tight hugs to hold broken pieces together. _This_ Keith is so different to Pidge’s steel, and Allura’s angry fire, and Coran's crumbling concrete, and Shiro’s chipped glass. 

It’s almost peaceful for nearly an hour, but then Lance twitches suddenly, small tremors wracking his thin frame. A whine gets shaken out of him, the injured sound catching in his throat. Hunk curses under his breath and strides forward, latching onto Lance’s wrists in a too-tight grip.

“Lance,” he soothes, making sure he keeps his voice calm and even. He can feel Keith hovering, tense again, but the Red Paladin keeps quiet and never lets his edges get sharp and already, Hunk knows that Keith is the best person to have right now. “Lance, hey. You back with us?”

Lance coughs and shakes, but he doesn’t try to pull away and he doesn’t properly start seizing yet. Hunk considers it a miracle. This is one of Lance’s better crashes. “H-Hunk?” He croaks. He doesn’t look away from the window. Hunk doesn’t care.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me. How far away are you?”

Lance shakes harder, strangled sounds tearing free of his mouth in place of words. Hunk doesn’t let go. He knows better. All he can do, though, is hang on to Lance’s wrist as Lance trembles and jolts and shakes with increasing force, his head lolling even as his eyes remain fixed on the great beyond. 

“Hunk,” Keith presses gently behind him, and Hunk grits his teeth because he knows that he should explain, but Lance’s crash is getting bumpy and he doesn’t really have the time or the focus to explain it right now. Keith will just have to deal.

“Lance,” Hunk whispers, gripping those thin wrists tighter. It’s cruel, almost, to hold him so tightly, but Hunk knows that he needs to. _Lance_ needs him to. The bruises make his throat close up when Lance finally gets up, but Hunk knows that he doesn’t have another choice. It’s either the bruises or let Lance float away somewhere nobody can reach him. 

He won’t ever come back if Hunk lets him go. So Hunk won’t ever let him go.

“ _Hunk_.” Lance pleads, his neck muscles locking and his pulse jumping. Hunk holds on. “ _Hunk_.”

“I’m here,” Hunk promises. “I’m right here, Lance. You can do it, I’ve got you. You can come back now. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Lance’s whole body is out of control now, muscles spasming and seizing beyond Lance’s control. Hunk knows it hurts, and that the pain is what’s keeping Lance away from himself, but if Lance doesn’t come back soon, he’ll drop and Hunk will lose him for longer than a week. The team can’t lose him for that long. Hunk can’t live with it.

Another set of hands gently lower themselves onto Lance’s shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. Keith says nothing as he lifts one hand and runs it through Lance’s sweaty hair. “Lance,” he says, calling and beckoning and asking his friend to come back. “Hey, Hunk and I have you now. It’s okay. We’re both right here.”

Lance’s body seizes all at once and Hunk is immediately bearing the weight, grunting as he carefully checks Lance’s face for any warning signs. “He’s not dropping,” he says, and relief hits him so hard he almost spirals out of his own body. “Thank god.”

Keith just keeps running a hand through Lance’s hair and making nonsense noises that seem to soothe the twitch to Lance’s face. 

Once Hunk is sure that Lance has crashed and isn’t in the midst of a seizure, he scoops him up bridal style. Keith says nothing about the childish way Lance clings to Hunk’s collar, nor does he say anything about the way Hunk rumbles deep in his chest the whole walk back to Lance’s room.

Hunk says nothing about the way Keith holds Lance’s hand the entire time. 

They make it into the darkness of Lance’s bedroom, and Hunk sits on the bed, lowering Lance onto the cool sheets and letting out a long breath when the Cuban boy curls up and closes his eyes. “Don’t turn on the light,” he informs Keith, who nods seriously, his face still so soft and fond and open. 

Hunk wonders why Pidge can’t be like this, why Pidge feels that she has to be unbending all the time. He thinks it’s because Pidge came into space made of broken pieces, and she made herself a suit of armour with those pieces pointing outwards. Now nobody can touch her without spilling their own blood, which is fine, but it also means that Pidge has condemned herself to an eternity of being so unbearably alone.

Hunk allows himself to openly stare at Keith, who stares back unabashedly. Keith’s eyes are blown wide - evidence of his unease and uncertainty - but his resolve nevers waivers and his own blazing defenses don’t come rushing out to engulf both Hunk and Lance. No, Keith lets himself be vulnerable, and maybe it’s the dark secrecy of Lance’s room, but Hunk can feel his eyes water.

He’s tired, and Keith is soft, and Lance had gone so, _so_ , far away this time.

“I’m scared that one day he’s going to spin out of reach entirely,” he confesses to the stillness of the air, still staring at Keith. Keith doesn’t say anything. Hunk continues, “It’s either he snaps away, or he drops too deep. Either way, we don’t ever get him back.”

Keith moves slowly, and Hunk doesn’t know if the Red Paladin is being careful not to wake Lance or trying to not startle Hunk himself, but Keith succeeds both ways. “How often does this happen?” His voice is nothing more than a murmur.

Hunk lets Keith settle on the bed beside him, bracing a hand on Lance’s ankle to reassure himself that the boy is still _there_. “It’s not often,” he says with an exhale. “It only happened a couple of times in the Garrison. This is the first episode he’s had since being in space. It’s definitely one of his longest.”

Keith hums. “Do you know why?”

No. Hunk has absolutely no idea, and it’s bothered him since day one. Lance doesn’t talk about it, claims he doesn’t remember, but Hunk isn’t blind and never misses the way Lance’s eyes become shadowed and haunted when he thinks nobody can see him. But no, Hunk never knows, but he holds onto Lance anyway because that’s what friends do and Hunk has absolutely no intention of letting his friend waste away in front of his eyes.

keith must take Hunk’s silence for his answer, because he turns his attention to the sleeping Lance. Something about him softens in a different way, a tension that Hunk hadn’t noticed giving way to adoration and something dangerously close to love. 

And Hunk knows that the thing that might be love may very well be the only thing that can convince Lance to _stay_ , so he stands up and he swallows down the sour tang of ‘ _not enough_ ’ and he says, “Can you stay with him, please? I need to go and talk to the others.”

Keith nods, just once, and stretches out so that he’s lying right beside Lance, his fingers brushing against Lance’s open palm oh-so-carefully. His touch is little more than a fairy dance, his fingertips tip-tapping across Lance’s skin in some sort of silent melody that’s so tender Hunk almost starts crying again.

Keith is hot chocolates on rainy days and ice cream for breakfast, and Keith is _home_ and he’s _normal_ and he’s _everything that Lance needs and Hunk can’t make himself make Keith go away._

Without another word, Hunk leaves Keith to his muted exploration of Lance’s hands, biting back the scream that Lance needs him too. Because Lance doesn’t, not really. Hunk just knows to be there, knows to catch Lance when nobody else realises that he’s falling and Hunk cradles Lance when Lance can’t hold himself together, but Hunk isn’t the one who can hold Lance’s energy in his hands and make Lance _stay_.

So Hunk surrenders to Keith, because Keith is a sun, and Lance is a planet, and they are destined to be around each other for eternity.

.

Pidge’s sharp edges are blood-soaked when Hunk tells her what’s happening. She stands next to Shiro, but not too close, and she bares her teeth and Hunk thinks she’s supposed to be smiling, but everything about her is too sharp and too dangerous and he doesn’t trust her right now. Because if Pidge slinks into the darkness with those spikes, she will warp the shadows into snarling things and she will unleash her self-directed anger onto the ship.

“Why did you leave him alone?” She asks, and she sounds almost victorious, like she thinks Hunk has slipped, like that allows her to crouch and pounce with her claws out. “I thought Lance couldn’t be alone until he came out the other side.”

Hunk wants to tell her that losing Matt doesn’t mean she can be a monster, but then he sees the feral look in her eyes, the look of someone who has nothing to lose and _everything_ to gain, and he instead chooses to say, “Keith is watching over him.” Pidge doesn’t look pleased, but she puts her fangs away and that’s all Hunk needs right now.

He turns to Shiro, whose eyes are sad, whose smile is tired, whose body is both his and not-his. Shiro says, “We’ll need to talk about this once Lance has recovered.”

Hunk hadn’t expected him to fully understand. “Lance won’t say anything,” he warns. “He says he doesn’t remember, but I don’t…” He trails off, frustrated. “I don’t think we should talk about it.” He doesn’t want to challenge Shiro, but this is Lance, and Hunk will fight the entire Galran Empire if it means defending him.

Shiro relents straight away, shoulders sagging under the weight of being leader. “Right,” he says. “Of course. Just...I worry about him. You’ll tell us if he gets worse?”

“Of course.” Hunk makes the promise without a second thought, because Shiro cares for Lance the way that Hunk himself cares for Lance and that’s the sort of emotion that makes the future seem not so terrible.

Hunk turns away, and pretends that his heart isn’t crying over the new crack that slots into Shiro’s glass frame.

.

Hunk takes up post outside Lance’s bedroom. Keith emerges once, twice, but disappears back into the darkness without anything more than a look at Hunk. Hunk looks back at him, listens to the soft voices, but doesn’t intrude. Lance will come for him if he wants him, and though it hurts more than anything Hunk has ever felt, Hunk knows that Lance will need Keith more.

So he stands, sits, waits. 

And then Allura comes down that hallway with her eyes on fire and her mouth twisted into something angry, and Hunk knows that Hell and Heaven are colliding with the force of a supernova. 

“It’s been a week!” Allura snaps, stopping when Hunk straightens up and folds his arms. “Lance cannot just waste away inside his room with Keith! We still have many enemies to battle, and a coalition to nurture. I demand that you let me speak to him. Bring him out.”

Hunk doesn’t move. “Lance is healing,” he says firmly. “He will emerge when he’s ready.”

Allura snarls, and maybe she’s more Lion than any of them, but Hunk is not easily cowed. He doesn’t budge. “This is unacceptable! You _will_ let me speak to Lance.”

See the thing is, Hunk will do _no such thing_. “No.”

“Why not? Surely you are not content just to play glorified watchdog? Lance has a duty to Voltron, to _me_ -”

“You aren’t our princess, Allura.” Too many people misunderstand just what Hunk is. Because he burns, yes. But he burns _cold_ and Allura may be ablaze, but Hunk is ice and he is not going to let Allura burn through the darkness that wraps around Keith and Lance inside that room. “Lance is healing from severe mental trauma. You are going to turn around and leave, or I am going to _make you_.”

Hunk is not a violent person. 

For Lance, he is willing to become one.

Allura stands and she stares for a moment, and just when Hunk thinks she might explode into a ball of heat and light, the bedroom door cracks open and someone walks out.

It’s not Keith.

Abruptly, Allura’s fire sputters out, and Lance wraps himself around Hunk, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. He’s shaking. Hunk immediately lifts him up into a tight hug. Lance’s face is wet with tears. “I can’t-” He breathes. “ _Hunk_.”

“I got you,” Hunk murmurs, glaring venomously at Allura until she turns round and walks away, defeat evident in every step. 

Hunk carries Lance back into the darkness, lets the door close behind him, and surrenders to the familiarity of Lance, Keith and comfort.

.

Lance is okay later. He ruffles Pidge’s hair and Hunk watches in amazement as one of those metal spikes becomes nothing but glimmering dust under the touch. Pidge smiles, there are no fangs, and Lance walks away with no wounds.

Keith stays by his side.

Hunk stands by and he watches.


End file.
